


Quiet Like the Snow

by ANobleCompanion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas returns, but Dean doesn't feel like he deserves to be happy about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Like the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Written after 8.19. This was inspired by the song Louder Than Thunder by Devil Wears Prada. Not Dean's type of music, but every time I hear it, I get Dean feels all over. Lyrics are posted in the end notes. 
> 
> Thanks to FrecklesAreChocolate for the beta!

Dean sat awake in bed, his back leaning against the wall, staring down at the angel sleeping on the pillow next to him.  

_Sleeping_

That alone was enough to rattle Dean.  He had never seen Cas sleep.  Normally, it would be Cas awake and watching while Dean slept.  A few years ago, Dean wasn’t able to even consider the prospect.  After all their nights together in Purgatory however, Dean realized how much he had come to rely on the angel’s wakeful presence beside him.

And now Cas slept.  Most likely a byproduct of his most recent break with Heaven, coupled with a rare sense of security.  The angel lay beside him, quiet and peaceful.  Yet the sounds inside Dean’s head were deafening.  A roar that drowned out all other thought.  One that began earlier that evening.

Cas had finally come back.  He hid the angel tablet - God knows where - before turning up on the doorstep of the bunker.  Dean did not ask where it was hidden, because Cas said it needed to be protected from him as well.  He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was determined that this time, Cas would have his trust.  If Cas said there was a reason Dean couldn’t use it to close the doors of heaven and keep the rest of the dick angels from messing with their lives again, Dean would listen.  Hopefully, Cas would trust _him_ enough to explain why eventually.  

When Cas first showed up that afternoon, he paused in front of Dean, clearly unsure of his welcome.  Dean saw this and did not hesitate in return.  He remembered the look of pain in Cas’ eyes when Dean flinched away from him in the mausoleum.  He wanted to erase that memory.  

So when Cas appeared next to him while he changed the oil in the Impala with his standard, “Hello, Dean,” Dean simply dropped the rag he was holding and pulled the angel into a tight hug.  Part of him felt as though he was trying to hold Cas in place to keep him from flying off again.  Maybe more than a part.

He led Cas into the bunker.  When he entered the library, angel in tow, Sam jumped up from the desk where he was predictably reading one of the many dusty tomes belonging to the Men of Letters.  Dean tensed a little.  The last time Cas saw Sam, he said something was broken in him.  Something even Cas could not fix.  Since then, Sam had been to Hell and back, completing the second trial.  

Cas treated Sam no different than normal however, and merely seemed grateful that Sam too seemed glad he was there.  

Since it was already getting fairly late, they decided to save the tour for after dinner.  Cas watched in silence as Dean pulled together the various ingredients, not saying anything.

Dean was long since accustomed to Cas’ extended silent stares, so he just continued to work.  Within an hour, there was a cheesy chicken and rice casserole, green beans, and rolls (frozen, not from scratch - Dean had yet to attempt baking) on the table.  He dished Cas up a plate even though he knew the angel didn’t strictly need to eat.  Part of him knew he was trying to show off a little.  It seemed to work.  Cas politely tried the meal and made a small noise of appreciated surprise after his first bite.  It did not take long for him to clear his plate.  

After dinner, Sam offered to do the dishes while Dean gave Cas the tour.  They finished at Dean’s room.  He gestured around somewhat lamely, wanting so badly for Cas to approve.  

“This room reflects you well, Dean,” Cas said solemnly, his voice low and guttural.  “You seem to have neglected to finish however.” He tilted his head to the side and indicated the empty corner with an outstretched arm.

Dean flushed and reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, I thought maybe you’d like some space too.”  Dean looked down as he spoke.  Cas never stayed.  Dean knew that.  He hoped by giving Cas a place of his own in the room, maybe this time would be different.  Maybe _this_ time he could hold onto something he wanted.  But that wasn’t his life and he didn’t really expect it.  

Nor did he expect Cas to surge forward, clasping his hands behind Dean’s head, pulling the surprised hunter into an exhilarating, head-spinning kiss.  Dean’s surprise was fleeting as he recovered and wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him close, eyes closed, determined to savor the moment.  

Far too soon for Dean’s liking, Cas pulled back with a sigh, leaning his forehead to Dean’s.  “Thank you,” he said softly.  This time, Dean moved forward, working the buttons on Cas’ shirt, determined to show him how unnecessary the thanks were.  

Now, several hours later, thoughts thundered and roared through Dean’s head.  Well, only one thought really.   _You don’t deserve this_.  In this moment, with Cas, Dean was happy.  He had no right to be happy.  Not after the things he had seen and done.  Not with Sam falling apart before his eyes.  There was only one trial left and he was terrified he would lose his brother again.  But right now?  With his best friend beside him?  And after finally following through on the actions he’d dreamt about for months - years if he was honest with himself?  Yeah, he was happy.  And that had to be wrong.  

_You don’t deserve this!!_  The voices of Alastair, his father, Adam, Lisa, Ben, everyone he’d ever failed, railed at him.  A disjointed chorus so loud it felt crushing.  

He kicked back the covers and quietly slipped from the bed.  He pulled on a pair of jeans, boots and his jacket before stepping outside.  The weather had been really off this year and despite being late March, a light snow fell across the landscape, silent and peaceful; a sharp contrast to his thoughts.  He was a selfish bastard and he knew it.

Right now he should be focusing on Sammy.  On figuring out exactly what that bitch Naomi was up to.  On finding Kevin.  On closing the gates of Hell.  

He sighed, looking at the landscape around him.  No wonder his head was so loud.  His life was loud.  He wondered briefly what it would be like to have a life as calm as the falling snow around him.  

“Stop it.” The voice behind him was low, gravely, and sounded very angry.  Dean jumped a foot in the air.  

“Damnit, Cas!” Dean gasped.  A confused frown settled across his face as Cas’ words registered.  “Stop what?”

“Your self doubt.  Your belief that good things can’t happen to you, shouldn’t happen to you.  That you yourself aren’t worthwhile.”  

“How...” Dean sputtered helplessly, not really sure how to respond.

“How do I know that’s what you’re thinking?  Because I’ve watched you more closely than you know Dean.  Probably more closely than any human has been watched by an angel of the Lord.  I’ve listened to your prayers and walked your dreams.  I know you better than you know yourself.”

Dean scowled, looking down, kicking the gravel at his feet with his boot, uncomfortable.  When he didn’t respond immediately, Cas continued.

“I presume you feel guilty for finding even a small amount of happiness in what we shared tonight.”

Dean looked up, his eyes flashing, “You’re right.  Are you satisfied?  I loved it.  It was the best night I’ve had in a long time - maybe ever.  I’ve wanted it and waited for it, but I don’t deserve it, man.  I don’t deserve you.  After all the shit I’ve done.  And now...” he let out a broken laugh.  “I couldn’t even do the damn first trial right.  Screwed up again.  Now Sam is paying the price.  You’re right man.  What we did tonight, and on top of that having you still here rather than MIA again, makes me so happy I can hardly breathe.  But I don’t deserve it and I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop and for this to bite me in the ass.”

Suddenly, Cas moved forward, shoving himself into Dean’s personal space.  If Dean thought he was angry before, he was downright wrathful now.

“Sometimes you can be so infuriating I want to smite you, Dean Winchester.  What will it take to prove to you, you are worth being saved?  I fought my way through hell because your light burned so brightly in that dark pit, it nearly blinded my grace.  You’ve sacrificed yourself again and again for the sake of others - your brother, your father, Lisa, Ben, countless strangers, the whole world Dean - and me.  I couldn’t have broken free of Naomi without your willingness to sacrifice yourself again.  You have always been worth saving - then and now.”  Cas sighed, losing some of his anger as his shoulders sagged. “There is too little I can do to help you right now.  I can’t fix Sam.  I can’t even fully understand what’s wrong with him.”

Cas looked up, his blue eyes piercing Dean’s green and Dean could read the sorrow in them.  “I had thought, I had hoped, I could at least give you this Dean.  A quiet shelter in the storm at last.  I was lost to you the minute my grace touched your soul to raise you from hell.  Because I could see then what you’re worth.  I hoped despite all _I_ have done, breaking free from Naomi and protecting the angel tablet might have finally made _me_ worthy of _you._ ”

It was the most Cas had spoken since appearing that afternoon.  Now it was Dean’s turn to be speechless.  For the first time, he felt his soul settle in contentment, a calm lake rather than the turbulent ocean.  The voices in his head subsided into the background, still present, but no longer at the forefront.  He reached out and pulled the angel forward by his trenchcoat to meet his lips softly.  

“How about we just both agree to be worth each other?” he murmured against Cas’ mouth.

Dean didn’t realize Cas had been holding his breath until he release it on a soft sigh.  

“I love you, Dean.”

“Let’s go back inside and I’ll show you how the feeling is mutual?”

As Dean reached down and laced his fingers through Cas’, the simple touch gave Dean the answer he needed.  The last of the voices in his head fell silent.   _This_ was what it took to to make his soul quiet like the snow.

**Author's Note:**

> "Louder Than Thunder" by Devil Wears Prada
> 
> What would it take for things to be quiet?  
> Quiet, like the snow.  
> I know this isn't much but,  
> I know I could I could be better.
> 
> I don't think I deserve it;  
> selflessness find your way into my heart.  
> All stars could be brighter.  
> All hearts could be warmer.
> 
> What would it take for things to be quiet?  
> Quiet, like the snow.  
> That we meant to be empty-handed  
> I know I could I could be better.
> 
> I don't think I deserve it;  
> selflessness find your way into my heart.  
> All stars could be brighter.  
> All hearts could be warmer.  
> What would it take for things to be quiet?  
> Find your way into my heart  
> What would it take for things to be quiet?  
> Find your way into my heart  
> What would it take for things to be quiet?


End file.
